This is not the end
by adriennett
Summary: Voices. Soft, bitter voices. The red warrior heard singing. He didn't know where he was going, his instincts were leading him. [One-shot]


**A/N: **Hey guys! I had a really bad week, so I decided to deduce the voltage with story writing. I'm not depressed, just sad, plus I heard a song in a movie trailer, which affected me badly... this caused some kinda songfic. The title of the track is '_This is the end_', performed by Fieldwork. Well... here another dark fic from me. So sorry for my mistakes. _Don't like, don't read._

**Warning:** Possible character death!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own TMNT.

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_Each end is the beginning of something._

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There was nothing but darkness. And pain. And exhaustion. And confusion. And silence. Too, too much silence. The warrior in red was walking tiredly, feebly in the fog. His muscles relaxed, sweat glistened on his forehead, his body was covered with smaller and larger injuries. His lungs punctured, each breath required a lot of energy. With trembling hand, he clutched his blood-polluted weapon. He didn't know where he was going, his instincts were leading him. He didn't know where, only that he's looking for something. Or rather someone.

As he moved forward, his body was rocked by increasingly strong tingling sensation. His heart pounded rapidly, his breathing in direct proportion accelerated. He ignored the unbearable pains. A weird, strange power suggested, go on. He didn't know why, but listened to this inner voice.

_**This is not the end…**_

Voices. Soft, bitter voices. The red warrior heard singing. Frightened, he looked around, but saw nothing. Maybe just his mind tricks him again…

Amber eyes narrowed when he saw something in the distance. Without thinking, he accelerated his steps, wanting to achieve that thing as soon as could. Suddenly memories flooded his mind. In every each second, a horrible picture obscured his anyway imperfect vision. Sounds belonged to these images. Clatter of swords. And tired panting. And battle cry. And a painful, painful scream.

The red warrior waved away these thoughts. Now he had only one purpose. To accomplish that thing. As he got closer, a shape unfolded of the thing. Namely, a familiar person's shape. Reaching him, the warrior weakly fell to his knees beside the lifeless looking body. Salty tears stung his eyes. The figure was his brother. The blue warrior's skin was pale, which was covered with a host of injury, coloring with blood. In his plastron, three deep parallel cuts ran through. His coffee brown eyes were open, staring at nothing.

The red warrior gently touched his brother's shoulder, and looked him in the eyes. The body was cold. Too cold. And numb. The red fighter lowered his head. A soft, subdued sob welled up his throat, tears rolled down his dirty face, falling onto his sibling's lifeless cheeks. This is not the end. This may not be the end! He was hoping that it was just a horrible nightmare that does not want to end. But it was not a dream. To it the pain ached too strongly.

_**This is not the end….**_

That voices again… but like before, nobody was here besides them.

The hard battle was over. I mean ... it wasn't a battle, but rather war. War, in which many fell. Many good, honest, brave, fearless fighters who deserved to live. Idiot. The warrior in blue was an idiot. He had saved him. Him, who deserved to die. He had fallen because of him.

The red closed his eyes and waited. Waited for a miracle. And sparks. And sunlight. And his big brother's awakening. He suddenly felt soft, ice-cold fingers gently caressing his cheek. His eyes snapped open and widened. The hand belonged to his brother.

_**This is not the end…**_

"Leo…" he breathed hoarsely, surprised. His excitement rose. Above them the dense fog began to disperse, sunbeams broke through the grayness. The red fighter took this as a sign. Maybe… maybe this wonder has finally come? Maybe… maybe there is a chance to get back the person who saved him? Maybe… maybe…

But this miracle lasted only a few seconds. The blue warrior's hand fell limply to the ground, the weak sun disappeared, leaving darkness behind. The red fighter's eyes widened, breathing's blocked. Even more tears gathered in his eyes, his heart skipped a beat.

"No… Leo, please no…" he pleaded, voice choking. His hand clenched into fist, heat went through his wounded body. Anger. Merciless fury. Those fucking bastards took him. Took him. His head raised to the sky and screamed. Screamed loudly. His roar echoed through long in the grayness. After he had screamed hysterically as much that his voice was completely hoarse, with trembling fingers, gently closed the blue warrior's lashes and cried on his dead brother's chest. Unstoppably cried.

_**This is not the end…**_

_**This is not the end…**_

The singing filled the air. The voices became stronger, they were beautiful. So, very beautiful. They sang for them.

The younger sibling didn't care if any of the others were looking for him. He just knew he doesn't want to move from here. Never again.

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**A/N:** I know, this is really short and probably full of mistakes, but it brought tears into my eyes while writing and listening Fieldwork. Let me know, what you think. (:

xx


End file.
